Fix Me
by Vergil Vanire's Paper Heart
Summary: Seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too. [Cloud/Sephiroth] [Character deafness]
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fix Me  
>Summary: Seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too.<br>Pairing: Cloud/Sephiroth  
>Warning: boyboy, depression, everything...just, everything  
>Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just write about them getting screwed over for personal satisfaction.<p>

* * *

><p>Sephiroth never really knew Cloud Strife. Wasn't sure anyone could confidently say they did. Not even Zack, his 'best friend,' who was usually found with anyone in possession of female anatomy in stead of the blond. But, even though Sephiroth didn't really know him, he could feel the pain. Could see the hurt. And seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too. He couldn't place why, though; there were plenty of other students in just as much pain, most who tried to get help for it. Somehow the fact that his underclassman remained silent made him even more concerned.<p>

He couldn't do anything about it, however. How strange that would seem, he often pondered, to have someone you've never spoken with suddenly approach you.

Only, one day, he did.

It was cold, that morning, but the Sophomore didn't seem to mind, listening to the ever-animated Zackary Fair babble some nonsense to his latest lady-friend: Cissnei. He hadn't planned on meeting the blond that day, but when Reno had forcefully removed his surrogate sister from the 'lowlifes,' he'd knocked the blond's binder from his arms, loose papers scattering all across the snow. The silveret gifted a glare in the redhead's direction as he passed, helping gather the younger teens schoolwork.

He presented the sheets to their rightful owner, receiving a look of surprise as he took them back. The upperclassman flinched slightly at the ten minute bell, but Cloud didn't seem to notice it. Zack tapped his friend's shoulder, gesturing to the doors with a jerk of his head. The boy turned back to his helper, moving his hand from his mouth toward Sephiroth as if blowing a kiss -albeit a very structured and angular one-, leaving the elder perplexed. It would only occur to him halfway through the day that Cloud hadn't heard the bell, and that Cloud didn't speak.

* * *

><p>Sephiroth had received plenty of odd looks throughout the day, but perhaps the most agonizing took place during Drill Practice at the end of the day. There was a lot of snickering and pointing happening quite openly. When the boy nearby seemed to 'lose focus,' he had no time to move out of the way; fifteen pounds of lead-plugged rifle flying into his ribs, and, at the lack of focus on his end, his own rifle striking the side of his face. Both practice props lay on the floor in front of him and all members of the drill team laughing openly at his misfortune.<p>

"You boys think that's funny?!" The room went instantly silent at the sound of Master Chief Highwind's voice. Commander Valentine was by his side, observing the team with a deep-set frown. "Would you all be laughin' if it was you?! Is gettin' hurt like that _amusing_, mister Flynn?"

Reno paled as he was called on. "No, sir."

"Why were ya laughin' at him, then? Look at him; he's bleedin'! You ought to say yer sorry, Flynn."

"My apologies, sir."

"Not to me! Vincent, go get Crescent to the infirmary; he looks 'bout ready to faint. Flynn, a word, if I may."

The Commander lead his student to the hall, stopping to examine his face, a deep set of bruises already forming stubbornly to his jaw, cheek, and brow at each impact of the practice gun, buried partially by the stream of blood. "You have a concussion."

"What?"

Commander Valentines eyes flashed a bit of panic. "Can you understand me?"

"Yes, I understand you fine, but how can you tell I have a concussion?"

The instructor let out a sigh, continuing with: "Your eyes aren't dilated evenly. Are you dizzy? Be honest, I don't want you falling and getting hurt worse."

"I'm fine," The youth assured walking in the direction of the infirmary in what he perceived as a straight line.

Valentine tilted his head in a way that would have implied 'Are you kidding me right now?' wrapping his arm around the teen's waist, being mindful of the ribs he was sure had to be harshly bruised as well. "You're not fine. You should rest a couple of days before you get back."

The silveret seemed to gain a sense of urgency, a look of horror plastered to his face. "No! I mean...I'll fall behind, I can't stay home."

The elder seemed to take this in for a moment. He knew that with the standards it took to be Petty Officer First Class, Sephiroth could easily take a couple of days off without his grades falling very far, and definitely not enough that he couldn't get caught back up. He was certain bigger things were at play, but he couldn't imagine what they were. "If you show up to school tomorrow, I'm going to take you to the infirmary and you'll have to stay there all day. You can do your schoolwork, but you can't be active. You _need_ to rest, Sephiroth. If that's better than being at home, fine, but you _will_ recover properly. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," he answered as his Commander lead him into the infirmary.

Miss Gainsborough looked up from a head of obnoxious spikes, with a soft 'oh,' as she took in his condition. The blond turned around to see the other boy from that morning, mouth falling in a silent 'oh' as well. The blond helped him to the infirmary bed, despite his protests that he could get there himself. He didn't remember his earlier assumption until the nurse informed: "He can't hear you, dear."

"O-oh..." he looked sadly into his underclassman's eyes, wondering rather suddenly (and rather stupidly, and rather romantically) if higher powers had given him sapphires for eyes to compensate that fact. That was his last thought before dizziness rushed his senses and he saw only black.

* * *

><p>The concussion hadn't been very severe, but the bruises were horribly uncomfortable coupled with mild disorientation. He had gone to school, despite Commander Valentine's wishes, and -as promised- remained with the nurse. For most of the day, Cloud was there as well, as the infirmary was basically in the same room as the Altered Learning class, a temporary room divider the only separation. There were only two classes the blond was able to attend with the rest of the school: Art and Film Appreciation, neither of which required much verbal communication.<p>

"It's not that he can't talk; he's just not very good at it," the nurse explained. "Deaf children are usually the loudest, people thinking they are unable to make noise is a common misconception."

"But how did he learn to talk?"

"He wasn't born deaf. He stopped hearing only a couple years ago. His mother said it happened naturally, but I can't find anything wrong with his ears. I guess we'll never really know."

"He seemed like he listened well to Zack, I never would have guessed..."

"Oh, he's quite proficient at lip-reading. But since he can't always be looking at someone's mouth, it was decided he would be more proficient with a specialist."

Sephiroth wondered what it would be like... to wake up one day to a silent world. He thought that must be a horrible thing to go through.

* * *

><p>AN: So, I've been thinking about this idea for a while now, but I wanted to finish Loving Corpses first, but after losing the files of both of them, it took a lot to want to touch that story again. I might add the other endings when I feel that it's been long enough that I won't feel worn out re-doing them. But, in the meantime: I present Fix Me; my latest continuous story. I hope you've enjoyed so far.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Fix Me  
>Summary: Seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too.<br>Pairing: Cloud/Sephiroth  
>Warning: boyboy, depression, everything...just, everything  
>Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just write about them getting screwed over for personal satisfaction.<p>

*When a member of the JROTC is called a ROTC, it should be pronounced as Rot-See. (ex: The ROTC flinched at the Commanders voice.)  
>Also, for those of you who don't know, Sephiroth is on the armed drill team, hence why they were spinning guns in the highschool. A lot of this probably won't make much sense unless you've been on drill team, but to get an idea of what he's doing there are plenty of videos of drill teams to look at.<p>

* * *

><p>It had been a week since Sephiroth had found himself in the infirmary, most of the swelling already gone, though yellow bruises dotted with purple and blue still clung to his jaw and cheek. Since that incident, he'd approached Cloud more often, and Friday found them on a bench sharing lunch in a quiet setting. Not that the blond could tell, either way. Zack hadn't gone to school that day, presumably skipping class, so the Drill member had decided to ask him.<p>

The pair sat in the inner courtyard; a small environment surrounded by the school. A glass dome shielded the field from the falling snow. The area was covered with overgrowth; the school hadn't hired a groundskeeper for years. While Master Chief's students were usually tasked with cleaning up the school, Vincent asked the inner courtyard be left alone.

_I think I would have gone crazy after not hearing anything for so long. _The silveret wrote on the notebook they shared.

_I think that you'd have to be crazy to begin with to still be sane._

What a paradox.

Sephiroth decided that he liked this, sitting here with the blond. The overhanging branches of the willow tree, the snow trapped away from them, and the overgrowth of the raised basins that made up a good half of the place had an interesting effect. He was sure that the marble floor had once been completely flat and eloquent, but with time the thirsty trees had broken it apart. The wispy roots of the willow seemed to reach out with one hundred arms, trying to grasp the stronger roots of the oak in the center of the sanctuary. It was quiet. But then, Cloud wasn't much of a talker. The ROTC didn't seem to take notice that while he was taking in the scenery, he was being taken in.

The younger made a sort of coughing sound, looking away and presenting the notebook they'd been using to communicate. _Would you like to come over tonight? _the line read. The other considered this a moment. He knew he didn't want to go home for as long as he could avoid it, but he also didn't want to intrude on Cloud's family. _Will your parents mind?_ he replied after some time. _My mom suggested it _the blond hurriedly scribbled.

* * *

><p>Cloud's mother was a nice lady, the kind Sephiroth used to imagine his mother was. She was also surprisingly youthful, and she appeared to have been the source of the vast majority of his new friend's traits. Everything except for his eyes, he noted. Her's were a beauty in their own right, shifting from shattered olives to broken mirrors, but Cloud's seemed to be fashioned out of gems; deep, glowing sapphires. Not even the actual stones could claim to be more beautiful.<p>

Everything had been fine, until halfway through dinner.

"It's great to see my little boy making more friends; lord knows how hard it's been with that hearing barrier. I'd been hoping he'd have a girlfriend by now, but ever since Tifa-"

Cloud's chair screeched backward as he stood, effectively silencing his mother. He stormed off in the direction of his room.

It occurred to the cadet that perhaps those who can't hear listen closer than anyone.

"Oh dear...that is still quite a sore spot for him, I see," the youth's mother looked down sadly. "I'll clean all this up, would you go check on him for me?"

* * *

><p>In the upper parts of the Strife residence, Cloud could be found sobbing none-too-quietly into a pillow. Sephiroth would've liked to've given a bit of warning, but the younger couldn't hear him. It hurt a lot, right then, to see how much his underclassman was hurting. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to stop it himself. But what could he do? He didn't know anything about this 'Tifa' character, but what ever had happened was obviously very painful. His body lulled with the heft of his heart, but he made his way over to the other boy.<p>

Lightly, he began stroking his friend's shoulder. Cloud froze for a moment, then quieted down into shaking breaths and turned to face the ROTC, clutching at his chest while being comforted. Some time after patting his back, Cloud had fallen asleep. But not Sephiroth, not for several more hours.

This _hurt_. Hurt so bad that he wanted to cry, too. He wondered exactly what was bothering him so much about Cloud suffering; it wasn't like it was his problem.

Only, it was; he had made it so. Sephiroth wanted to take away the pain. Wanted to do as Cloud had asked.

"_Fix me..._" he'd cried, diamonds pouring from sapphires. "_Fix me..._"

Sephiroth wasn't sure how; wasn't sure what even needed fixed.

* * *

><p>In his own room the next day, the silveret was aggressively practicing half beat, the rifle getting heavier and heavier with each twirl.<p>

He went through the motions over and over and over. His hair was tied back and out of the way. His body was dripping of sweat and his arms were so, so very sore...

Sweaty palms rendered pinning useless, the practice weapon falling heavily and loudly to the floor. He could hear his father's yelling far before he got to the door. He didn't know why the old man bothered anymore, with all his talk about how useless spinning guns around all day was, how, eventually, it would become obsolete as technology developed. He grabbed a towel, heading to the adjoined bathroom.

Sephiroth always thought about strange things in the shower, but not in the same way as most teenage boys. He was thinking right then about how people never wanted to hear the flaws of the people they admired, even the true things. How, instead, they would rather blindly worship someone they knew only a few things about. He knew he was guilty of this, he certainly had been growing up. His mother had always been a touchy subject. When he was little, he'd even pretended that she was around. No one could badmouth his mother and get away with it...but he'd never met her. He'd always thought of his mother as this divine being, but really, he didn't know. Would never know. He sighed, toweling his body and grabbing his hairbrush. "Genesis," he acknowledged, not at all surprised to see the redhead in his room.

"Allow me," he offered, confiscating the brush.

"This isn't one of your better ideas, Gene."

"You always assume I only come here to sleep with you."

"I suppose I do," the younger agreed. "Have you ever thought about why that is, though?"

"I just said you always assumed that, not that you were wrong," he corrected wryly.

The younger shook his head, grabbing his brush back. "Get out, Genesis, before my dad catches you here."

The other narrowed his eyes. "Still playing Rapunzel locked away in this tower of yours, I see."

"I _don't_ need rescuing. We're not little kids anymore, Genesis. I refuse to let you drag me down with you."

"All this talk about how you're going to be something one day, how you're not like me... But are you really any better than me? No matter what you say, you're still just daddy's little puppet," the redhead spat, moving back to the window.

"Maybe... But at least I'm not yours anymore."

* * *

><p>AN: We're learning a little more about the characters, nothing too exciting, just yet. Thank you all for reading, I'm hoping for a review from one or two of you, if you have time.

Tobirion: Thank you for reviewing. I do know my way a bit around this area, being raised by my grandfathers, one of whom had lost his hearing. Despite his trouble hearing people, he was a brilliant man,and I hope that the people who read this can try to work through similar barriers to recognize the great people they don't even realize surround them.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Fix Me  
>Summary: Seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too.<br>Pairing: Cloud/Sephiroth  
>Warning: boyboy, depression, everything...just, everything  
>Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just write about them getting screwed over for personal satisfaction.<p>

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><p>Cloud thought a lot of the time. Cloud thought at times when he shouldn't think, and thought a lot of thoughts he shouldn't think. Cloud thought...<p>

Sephiroth tasted like a lifetime of bad decisions and Winter travesty. If he were an alcohol, he would be the kind you drink alone on Christmas. The kind that distracts you from the fact that the holiday season is a cold, ugly time that other people are enjoying without you. That the snow that looked 'pure' the day before was an absolute atrocity today. Sephiroth smelled of the candles you might light after setting off a smoke alarm; all-encompassing and strong. Dark, sour cherry, attempting wholeheartedly to cover the mistakes of the past, but the smoke still lingered, and you would still be choking on them for a long, long time. Sephiroth felt like the very first dress a little kid would secretly try on in their mother's closet; soft, maybe made from silk and much too grown up for the little blond who tried his damnedest to braid his hair.

Cloud remembered that dress well. It was a strange blue thing that clung to his hips and threatened to fall off everywhere else. He hadn't cared at the time, though, he'd been so fascinated. It was shiny and dark blue with a ribbon around the waist that was much lighter, closer to the color of Sephiroth's hair. It was a thick ribbon, and if he pulled it tight, it gave the impression of slight curves. He never got caught, but he never did it again, either. Never really wanted to.

Wednesday's midday meal did find him thinking about it, though. The ravenet beside him was raving at Cissnei, and the blond attempted to pay attention, too, but he was rather distracted by the cadet sat on the bench on the hidden on other side of the glass. He was reading a book, biting his lip cruelly, and running his fingers through his hair, tugging at it occasionally. Cloud realized he was probably tugging at his hair when the book raised the intensity; the pages were turned to an area that would be around the final rising action and climax sections of the book. The blond wondered what he was reading, what kind of books he liked. He thought he might just die if it were a fantasy novel he might have already read, but hushed that thought; the upperclassman was probably more into action books. He felt his face heat up at pondering if the silveret were reading a romance novel and that pulling his hair might be some strange kink.

Yes, Cloud did think quite a bit. But then, his mind was his prison and what else was there to do?

* * *

><p>Petty officer first class: Sephiroth hated Winter. It was always cold and dry and windy. His lips would be chapped and his hair would be tangled. Everyone would all be gathered in the school, a noisy, erratic background that distracted him from his book. Not even the library would be quiet. All that was happening, and Winter hadn't even started yet. He was more concerned he couldn't focus on his book in the inner courtyard. No, his mind was in too many places. On a redhead, on a blond, on everything and nothing<p>

Genesis had been his only friend in the entire school; everyone thought he was a little strange and, true to teenage form, had not spared a second thought to inform him. Genesis had been expelled at the end of last semester, along with the teacher he'd been caught 'studying' with. Scientists are always missing at least a couple of screws -he should know, after living with one so long- but apparently Professor Hollander had been missing the one securing the 'don't get intimate with your students' section in his brain. The redhead was a great poet, and was rather quotable when he wasn't quoting something else. One phrase that always stuck with him for some reason had been 'Everything is about sex, other than sex itself. Sex is about exercising power.' He would tally up all of his best friend's promiscuity as the need to feel in control.

And then, there was Cloud... It was hard to tell exactly what his underclassman was. Communication was difficult, and the entire relationship seemed to be based off staring and the occasional strange charade match when notebooks weren't available, as the silveret understood almost no sign language. He knew Tifa was bad news, and on a very strange happening, discovered that the blond was better at math than he was. Much,_ much_ better. He also knew that besides his sapphires for eyes, his smile was also very stunning.

Trouble was, Cloud didn't smile much.

* * *

><p>As the month progressed, Sephiroth found himself in the infirmary more and more, but not from getting hurt, but rather because that was where Cloud was. He was finding out more and more, learning about Cloud and, somehow, getting better at algebra along the way. The blond was napping behind the blinders when he strolled in, and the cadet's breath caught in his throat at the sight. His unruly spikes shimmered, spun gold in the dull colored room and his arms spread across his desk, reaching for something unknown that just happened to be in Sephiroth's direction. All of him seemed to glow, as if the sun had traveled all the way to the school just to worship Cloud Strife.<p>

"He looks tired, huh?"

Sephiroth pretended to clear his throat at the sound of the nurse he'd seemingly forgotten about. She smirked knowingly, but decided not to say anything. "He works hard all year, but it seems he doesn't do anything else around this time. Augustus tried to lessen his workload, but Cloud just asks for more. Why don't you take him out to unwind sometime?"

"I don't-"

"Just think about it," Aeris pleaded. "I know it would mean a lot to him."

* * *

><p>It was an uncomfortable feeling, whether or not he could hear it. To see someone he'd been taught his whole life was evil be playful, be scared... be human. It meant that evil couldn't be recognized, that evil could be anyone. Could be him, or Zack, or Sephiroth, and no one could tell otherwise. When Cloud thought of evil people, he wanted to see them screaming evil at people, wanted to see them promoting evil, wanted to see them doing evil. He didn't want to empathize with them. He didn't want to see their humanity. Because that would mean he could just as easily have been that person, that anyone around him could be that person. He didn't want to think about it...<p>

But what else is there to do, trapped inside his own head?

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, the story will still be 3rd person limited, but it starts to shift between the two of them a little bit here and there.

A10tion: You have such a clever name, I enjoy your creativity. ^_^ I'm glad you like the story so far, I hope you stick with it.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Fix Me  
>Summary: Seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too.<br>Pairing: Cloud/Sephiroth  
>Warning: boyboy, depression, everything...just, everything  
>Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just write about them getting screwed over for personal satisfaction.<p>

* * *

><p>Tifa Lockhart was from another world, a lifetime away from Cloud. He wasn't sure why he bothered himself with thoughts of her anymore. It might have been closest to the truth to say that it was her fault that he was this way. Not to say that she had caused his hearing impairment, but rather he looked at himself differently when she pointed it out. Because not once before that day had Cloud Strife looked at himself as slow, disabled, or invalid. But that day, she slapped him in the face with the harshness that was his reality, had said that he was all of those. Until that day, he never thought much about it, but after that day, Cloud thought a lot of things he never thought he would think. He thought about things like how many people would miss an invisible person, exactly how cold someone had to be before their hearts stopped, a lot of things that a lot of teens think that they never thought they would think.<p>

But they do.

And most of the time, they never really stop, either, occasionally crossing their mind.

But Cloud wouldn't do it. He had become stronger than that, had more reasons to live, had more people to live for. Even if they didn't often notice how he truly felt, didn't often ask him how he felt. Sephiroth was a bit different, though. He always asked, always waited, never forgot, never left him behind.

Sephiroth was pale perfection, a personal stranger, a trainwreck of beauty, a warm wind in the close of August. Sephiroth who was once nothing more than a passerby in the high school hallway, who was nothing to him and in return he was nothing to, was somehow rooting himself into Cloud's life and becoming his everything.

And what a scary, scary thought that was.

Because while the ROTC was finding out more and more about the blond, Cloud still knew next to nothing about Sephiroth's personal life, his past, his anything.

Sephiroth Crescent was a world away.

* * *

><p>Sephiroth had nothing to say. The things he wanted to say he could not say. If he were to say the things he could not say, no one would hear. If someone did hear him say the things he could not say, they would not understand. If they were to understand what they heard of the things he said -that he could not say- they would be angry. If they were not angered by the things they heard that they should not be able to understand of what he said -which he most certainly <em>did not say<em> (because he could not say them)- then he would be afraid of that person. But he never met that person who heard what he said and was not angered by the things they understood of what he said. Because he could not say them, and therefore did not say them.

So, no. Sephiroth Krieger des Hojo-Crescent had nothing to say that day. Nothing. At. All.

If he did have something to say -and he didn't- he kept his mouth tightly shut.

He didn't say a word when Cissnei badmouthed Genesis. He didn't say a word when Johnny badmouthed Cloud. He didn't say a word when Zack didn't say a word about Johnny badmouthing Cloud. He didn't say a word when Reno 'accidentally' knocked him over in the hallway. He didn't say a word all day. But he did observe. He watched, he listened. He felt, for some of it.

Then he threw down the 40 lb. bar with it's extra 30 lbs. because it bruised his collarbones several reps ago and, goddamnit, Sephiroth was not made of steel no matter how his peers perceived him and it hurt like Hell. (And also maybe because the silveret always half-assed upper-body strength workouts because _who the Hell lifts 70 pounds over their freakin' head__ outside of circuit? _is what he thought every Friday, thereby was not he the strongest when it came to doing exactly that _in_ circuit.) The (non-fireable) rifle-swinger was sweaty (he thought he might actually drown), overdressed (even though it was near Winter and his ensemble consisted of a tiny white tank-top, tiny black shorts, and even tinier undershorts than his tiny shorts), light-headed (he could faint any second, now), and in a lot of pain (his arms could literally be on fire and he would be none the wiser.) But to Hell with all of that, because he felt _good_. Sure, some painkillers and a week-long siesta with frigid blankets and pillows might feel even better, but he did in fact feel amazing.

As if to spite his non-pharmaceutically-induced antidepressant, Reno appeared.

And Sephiroth Krieger des Hojo-Crescent had nothing to say. Nothing. At. All.

* * *

><p>Genesis always had a knack for picking up strays. In first grade: a cat. In fifth grade: a crow. In seventh: a snake. His favorite stray, however, was a human. A Sephiroth -insert only parents remember for the sole purpose of scolding their children which for some reason his friend had an extraordinary long one for some reason name- Crescent. This pet had spoken the entire first month in the monosyllabical language consisting of 'hnn,' 'mm,' 'grr,' 'ugh,' 'huh?' 'oh,' and sighing of all kinds. The first actual English (Genesis wasn't sure before then if he knew it) consisted of the phrase 'Uhm...I'm kind of on a ton of medication, so this could take a while.' Of course there was a bit more pausing, mostly because of what Genesis was doing on his new friend's lap, but one cannot go three years and remember the exact pausing of a single phrase, most memorable or not. The redhead never could decide if he remembered it more for sentimental value or for comedic value; they seemed to weight equal.<p>

The words were not the most important part -though useful for a fond moment or a good laugh. After all, much like Paulo Coelho's '_The Alchemist;_' it was not about what the journey yields, but rather the journey itself. The entire first month was most best described as 'Genesis Amarant Rhapsodos hosting a one-sided, month-long, conversation with an ungodly-long-named brick donning a silver braid. But, somehow, Genesis had coaxed him into a kiss, had coaxed him into a bed, had coaxed him into a (somewhat) relationship, and just pestered him until they were best friends. Lately, though, it felt like the ROTC had applied a thick coat of pesticide around his life, and not even his best friend's pestiness. Genesis did not appreciate that. Genesis could not accept that.

Mannerisms change. Natures do not. Somewhere, under this strange, new force field the silveret had erected around himself was the blushing Freshman who looked away the first time the redhead had given the younger a kiss. But with the new barrier, it was too hard for the Senior to find and pull to the surface.

Genesis was still a persistent collector of strays, but the one in his bed was only a distraction.

* * *

><p>Sephiroth's hands were not soft. It was hard to lift weights and have soft hands, Cloud was sure. The blond was rather relieved the ROTC's hands were scared, even that there were fresh blisters from yesterday. His own would get caught on the ones his upperclassman had tried to scratch off, and the Sophomore knew that no amount of chalk would have completely saved his hands. The callous skin tickled his hand. To him, it was the proof that Sephiroth was a real person; a real person who sweat, a real person who bled, and -though he'd yet to've seen it happen- a real person who cried.<p>

Sephiroth had talents and Sephiroth had weaknesses. Sephiroth had joys and Sephiroth had pains. Sephiroth had pride and Sephiroth had insecurities. Sephiroth was a bit of everything, and Sephiroth was a surprisingly normal human being who was walking through a freezing ass park holding his underclassman's hand. Neither of them were saying a word, but Cloud was sure that Sephiroth was just as content as he was, if his soft smile were anything to go by. (And it was, because any kind of smile on him was extremely rare, and to most people: a sign of the apocalypse. But Cloud was willing to put up with the apocalypse if it meant he could see that smile.)

Sephiroth's hands were not soft. But they were definitely tender.

* * *

><p>AN: I got a review a few hours ago, so I decided 'What great motivation!' and finished the chapter. Thank you all for your support on this story!

Tobirion, I'm glad you find Genesis an interesting character. I read a couple of your stories, and I really enjoy how you write him, as well ^_^

Sorokokiri, thank you for the review, it inspired this update! I hope you continue reading it ^_^

School goers, it's the end of the semester! enjoy your 4 to 7 day break!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Fix Me  
>Summary: Seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too.<br>Pairing: Cloud/Sephiroth  
>Warning: boyboy, depression, everything...just, everything  
>Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just write about them getting screwed over for personal satisfaction.<p>

* * *

><p>Genesis Rhapsodos was not possessive. Didn't know how to be, really. He was a firm believer in generosity. Sometimes, he thought that might be a main factor to much of his downfall; he expected his partners to be faithful to him but gave no restrictions on how many others they could be faithful to. Perhaps he seemed distant to them, but he had not meant to. If they decided to leave him, he never fought for them, never asked them to stay. He always remembered how upset that had made many of his previous partners, all female if he cared to remember a bit further. He didn't. Because it hurt to remember.<p>

The redhead had not been born with a jealous bone in his body; did not have the capacity to be possessive, jealous, envious of anyone because nothing in the world really belonged to him to begin with, especially not another human being. No, he didn't know how to be jealous...

But he knew how to want.

Knew how bad it hurt to want. Knew the pain of wanting to hold on to someone, -even just the idea of that person- when it was so impossible.

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><p>Cloud was not stupid. Cloud was deaf. He could not hear, but he could listen in his own way. If he tried really hard, he could even speak, to some extent. He lived in a silent world, could not know what his friends sounded like, these days. Cloud did not always have a hearing impairment. He remembered what it was like to hear voices and sounds. He remembered the sounds of every word he wished he never had to hear. He remembered the way he had to ask people to repeat themselves over and over, louder and louder every day. He remembered waking up crying one morning simply because a bird had woken him up and he thought that was a beautiful thing because he knew that one day he wouldn't hear that bird ever again.<p>

Cloud remembered every thing. Cloud remembered every pain.

And it was all locked inside, with no way to get out. He wrote about it. He drew about it. He cried about it. But no matter what he did, it was always stuck inside of him. It was the lump in his throat, it was the tremor in his hand, it was the tightness of his chest, it was the blood on his lip, it was the crescent moon marks on his palm, it was insomnia every night, it was his bad posture, it was his need to be against the wall so he could see what everyone else was doing because W_hat if they're looking at me?_ even though most everyone had gotten over the fact that Cloud was not being rude, but simply couldn't hear them.

Helen Keller had said that blindness separated people from objects, but deafness separated people from people. He could never imagine how she must have felt, but he was certain she was right on both counts as he was definitely feeling the separation.

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><p>Genesis had a system to things. There were many ways many things could be done, but for him there was always one course of action and that was how it should be done. The problem was: Sephiroth had broken his system. He'd had many partners, many of them at the same time as another, but he'd never gotten quite so attached as he had to Sephiroth. Not to say that he'd not been attached to any of the others; he felt certain he'd loved them all, at least at some point. He loved the 'no-stringers,' he loved the 'let's-be-friends-ers,' he loved the 'one-night-standers,' he even loved the couple of 'scandlers.' But he <em>loved<em> Sephiroth.

Loved the closeness, the struggle, the growth, the friendship, the way he could go from 'I love you' to 'I hate you' and back in sixty seconds or less. Loved the gentleness, and harshness, and honesty, and naivety, and how he'd insisted he wasn't gay for the longest time but still loved the redhead. He loved the way that Sephiroth sometimes wanted to be him, and he almost always wanted to be Sephiroth.

Genesis had certain ways, but Sephiroth had shown him better ones and he didn't use them and he lost the only partner he'd ever called a lover because he was stubborn ans he was stupid and _why does this hurt so much?!_

Genesis' system was broken, but now he had nothing else left to use.

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><p>Sephiroth never thought much about the way a house would work with hearing impairment. By the fifth time he had visited, he was slightly embarrassed to find that even the blond's dogs knew more sign language than he did. Most of the house had been fitted to Cloud's needs by the insurance company. Through writing, Cloud explained that the alarms were connected to the lights. In case of a fire, every light in the house would flash and there was no area without so much as a lamp. He had an alarm clock as well, but it was often rendered useless on account of covering his head with blankets. Cloud had agoraphobia, and hated open spaces because he could never tell what was happening around him, so often he made his bed a cocoon. Sephiroth noted that the rest of the room had the same theme; his desk was facing the rest of the room from the corner and his closet was walk-in; he probably shut the door so his back wasn't to the open space. Everything in the house that seemed normal before seemed to have an elaborate set up; even Fenrir and Beast were not only his pets, but also for security.<p>

Everything difficult about Cloud's life made him appreciate his own more.

_Sorry for asking you over so suddenly, I just didn't want to be alone._ the blond scribbled on the note pad. Over time, the silveret had discovered the times when responses involving words were unnecessary, and he just smiled and ran a hand through the unruly spikes...

But something odd happened. Something the ROTC had never really felt with anyone, even Genesis. It wasn't a spark, not really; it was more like time froze. Even that, he decided, was much too cliche, but he couldn't find a better explanation. Time froze, but his heart was beating hard anyway, and Sephiroth could swear he heard it. Even as the boys' heads moved forward -millimeter by millimeter- Sephiroth wasn't entirely sure what was happening or why it was happening. Everything in the room was still around them, but Sephiroth could swear explosions were happening somewhere as he felt the blond's lips press against his own. They were chapped from the biting and peeling the blond abused them with, but they felt perfect regardless.

Everything had suddenly clicked in to place in the silveret's head.

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><p>AN: I wanted to wait for a review, but it looks as if it's not coming. Oh well~

Hope everyone -guests, followers, reviewers- enjoyed the new chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Fix Me  
>Summary: Seeing Cloud's hurt for so long made him hurt, too.<br>Pairing: Cloud/Sephiroth  
>Warning: boyboy, depression, everything...just, everything  
>Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just write about them getting screwed over for personal satisfaction.<p>

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><p>Cloud was not, to anyone's knowledge including his own, interested in men. He'd appreciated beauty and saw it in every gender, binary or not, but he'd never actually thought about kissing another boy. He'd tried on a dress once, but not because he wanted to be a woman, or even because he wanted to dress like one. Not all gay men cross-dress and not all cross-dressers are gay men, and Cloud didn't consider himself either. To be fair, he'd only ever had a crush on one girl in his life and she threw his heart away like daisies on a grave. After that, he'd never really thought of any one in that way.<p>

The older boy pulled away apologetically and slow, maybe a bit embarrassed as well, but it gave Cloud a moment to think.

He wasn't sure what Sephiroth kissing him meant. He wasn't sure what his reciprocation meant. He had absolutely no idea where it would lead him.

But he didn't care.

Instead of following any sort of logic, the blond pulled his upperclassman back down, the abruptness taking the silveret by surprise but he still couldn't find the will to care even as the oxygen in his lungs grew stale and he felt hands on his waist and the wall at his back and Sephiroth's tongue at his lips.

Denying logic further, he allowed entrance.

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><p>Sephiroth had absolutely no idea what he was doing even as he was doing it. There were no reasonable arguments for kissing Cloud, even if the blond seemed to have no problems with it. Quite the contrary, he seemed to almost be begging his upperclassman to continue, hands clutching and pulling at his previously unwrinkled black t-shirt. He couldn't find the will to care about said piece of attire. He was far more concerned with the spike-haired sophomore pressed between the wall and himself.<p>

But for just a moment, in Sephiroth's mind, Cloud was not Cloud. Suddenly, Genesis was standing before him, and he pulled away as the memories rushed his mind.

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><p><em>"What's the matter? I thought I was helping you."<em>

_"How do you help someone doomed to rest in eternal flames by starting the fire?"_

_"Sephiroth, that is a very old belief system you're referring to. You don't honestly believe you're going to Hell, do you?"_

_"It's not even a matter of Heaven or Hell; I was raised by a scientist, **you**__ are the religious one. To me, this is about social standards. To me, the only Hell to be experienced is in life, and this lifestyle will bring that Hell upon us."_

_"So, what, you're just going to give up? On me? On us? You're not a fool, love. I've known you long enough to say that for certain. You know this is not a 'lifestyle;' you admitted, yourself, to not being able to find sexual desire in women."_

_"I can be saved! We can both be saved, Genesis."_

_"That is not true! You can bury it as far down as you like, Sephiroth, but it will always be there! You cannot hide from who you are, don't even say that. Don't even **say** that! This is not some disease or disorder your father can just treat and medicate you for; the fact that he has been is archaic, bygone, antediluvian, and, quite frankly, **barbaric. **Don't you dare say that we need to be saved from love, because that is truer heresy than the love we make. I'm shocked to hear that from an apostian such as yourself."_

_Sephiroth wanted so many things in that moment. He wanted to be straight, he wanted to be gay, he wanted Genesis to leave, he wanted him to stay. He wanted Genesis to stop being with other people, if it all panned out. Everything was like a contest for the redhead's affection, and even though he knew he was paid more attention than most of the others, he still felt insecure._

_The silveret never quite got over it. He avoided his older lover until he was no longer there to be avoided. Genesis had broken something in his mind._

_He, not unlike Genesis, had a certain way of doing things. He didn't want to be saved anymore, but he wasn't sure it could be undone at this point._

_He wanted love. He wanted Genesis' love._

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><p>He wanted Cloud's love.<p>

This was a moment where verbal communication would have been effective, if not for the fact that Sephiroth didn't know what to say and Cloud wouldn't be able to hear him.

Cloud stared at him for a long while, even after Sephiroth had turned away. Sephiroth knew he was trying to ask what was wrong, but the ROTC didn't know and couldn't answer.

The room was absolutely still as Cloud wrapped his arms around the older boy from behind, trying to comfort him in an odd turn of events. Sephiroth's heart was pounding beneath his skin, and he was certain the blond could feel it as well.

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><p>"A bit cold for a walk in the park, don't you think?"<p>

Genesis looked up, turning away from the railing as the ravenet approached. "Everything is relative," he replied, leaning against the wood that he knew could easily falter and send him spiraling into the pond.

"Certainly is," the stranger agreed. "But I can't imagine this is a comfortable temperature no mater what it's relative to." The elder gestured to the falling snow, as if to emphasize his point. "Besides that, you are quite obviously shivering."

Genesis cursed his lack of resistance to the cold. He'd never liked it, having grown up in warmer weather while he was younger. It almost never snowed in Banora, and even after five years of horrendous winter weather, he still was not used to it. "Genesis Rhapsodos," he stated clearly, holding out his freezing hand.

"Angeal Hewley," the stranger responded, firmly taking the offered hand.

For some reason or another, Angeal struck him as a noble type. He couldn't have been much older, but he had graduated already. When prompted on family, he spoke of a single mother who taught him honor and kindness. Genesis struggled to recall his own parents, but it had been nearly eight years since his biological parents had died. The system had tossed him around for a while, but he'd been in this home for four years now, and he was nearly ready to move out on his own. Angeal seemed to sympathize, but Genesis merely brushed it off; it'd been too long not to be over it.

Over the day, he found himself thinking less about Sephiroth. For the first time in a long time, he smiled genuinely.

If it were an option, he thought he'd like to get used to this.

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><p>AN: Heya there. Been a while, huh?

Thank you, Yaoi Wolf, for the feedback; it helped to get this chapter up! (Though it still seems kind of late...)

I hope to hear more of you guys' thoughts, now that there're so many follows/faves ^_^


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